The Third Man
by Luna del Cielo
Summary: "They're called 'servants of heaven' like it's something honorable. Like there's something good about being someone's slave, someone's lapdog." Crossover with Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
1. No Longer a Dog

No Longer a Dog

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer nor do I own Supernatural.

They're called 'servants of heaven' like it's something honorable. Like there's something _good_ about being someone's slave, someone's lapdog.

Dogs. All of them. Groveling things. Blind in their views on their Master, the one they call Father. He treats them as if they are dogs. Attack dogs, dogs to tear at the flesh of the foul beasts that besmirch Creation. Docile dogs, meant to coddle the humans and protect the special ones.

Dogs. Loyal until the end.

He was a dog once. A mighty creature of celestial intent that repelled the efforts of the demons that tried to destroy them. He was a dog devoted to his Master…

…Until one day that dog gets kicked so hard he vowed never again to work tirelessly for a Father that clearly has no love for his own.

Their Master had once made them swear to love His creations, the humans, greater than they loved Him. Like a good dog, he did. He was a loyal beast for almost his entire life. He fought against the demons for them, healed them, and looked out for them – all under his Father's orders, of course.

In the beginning he was given an order that would, one day, change his life. It was an honorable mission, one that some siblings were jealous of, but at the time he had no idea the gravity of his Father's decision. While his eldest brothers, the archangels, served as guardians for the prophets, he was given a different assignment – to serve as the guardian for the slayer line.

For one who generally liked humans, it wasn't easy to see those young girls die so often. Yet he knew they would find their reward in Heaven. After all, why would a human _want_ to spend more time on Earth? The world was growing increasingly violent and it became clear that Heaven would be the best place for these female warriors. These were children, really, who had responsibilities thrust upon them that they never should have had in the first place.

His orders were simple. To watch out for the slayers. Ensure that no one tried to destroy the line. To spread the essence to the potential slayers and activate them upon the death of the former one. Other than that, he was never allowed to interfere.

But one day this dog bit back.

He ignored his orders – for he imagined that his Father long ago began ignoring his prayers to return to the Host – and he interfered. For thousands of years he had only watched but this time he just couldn't anymore.

He really didn't understand why he couldn't refrain, but if he was honest with himself it was because he _felt_ something for her. There was a spark in her soul and it warmed him. Her soft laughter, cheeky smile, masterful use of words, bravery…he coveted her. It went against all he knew to be right, but he couldn't stop himself. Seldom did he descend into the human world to closely watch them interact but he did so daily for this slayer. In time he began to even pick up the colorful way she spoke and imitated her unconsciously.

His brethren did not understand the changes in him. But he did not care what they thought. They did not know the world the way he knew it. The world that was suddenly better by her being in it.

The night he ignored his orders and stepped in to help was the night the vampire drowned her. She was so fragile in that pool of water. He watched as the liquid soaked into her pretty white dress and spread throughout the fabric. It made him think of how she tried to soak up everything in life, to experience everything.

And he realized something. He was not pleased that she would be arriving in Heaven.

Heaven, of course, was a blissful place but it was comprised of a soul's favorite moments. There were no new interactions there. For the slayer it would be a good place but she had few happy memories. She was so young! There was more she had to do and see, so much more.

And, if he admitted it to himself, he couldn't bear the thought of not being able to watch her live anymore. To instead just peek in on her in Heaven would be repetitive and boring, and if there was one thing this girl was, it wasn't boring.

She was dead by the time the boy and the other vampire came for her, but her soul had not yet left. There was time yet.

So he used the boy and pressed life back into the slayer. She awoke sputtering and appearing disheveled but there was a fierce look in her eyes. One that promised death to the vampire who killed her.

It was a look he recognized in himself during battle.

He was a dog once. A groveling, spineless dog constantly waiting for orders. Always wanting to please. His moment of saving the slayer had gone overlooked and he returned to being a good pup and doing as he was told.

When the slayer ascended to Heaven he was glad because he had begun to witness the weariness that infiltrated her soul. The haggard expression that she bore; for while she would smile on the outside and her friends never knew, _he_ knew. He saw how tired she was. Heaven was a blessing.

From time to time, he came to visit. More frequently than other angels would check in on a charge. But she was special. And although her Heaven consisted of memories he had already witnessed, he discovered that they, in fact, never did become boring or repetitive. _She_ never got boring or repetitive.

So he was a happy dog, content to perform for his Master and watch the slayer during his free moments. Sometimes he thought of speaking to her, but he never did. After all, what would one say? It was best to leave her be, to leave her happy in her Heaven.

But then one day he was watching her. She was accepting the award for 'Class Protector', an oft-visited memory of hers, when cracks began to appear in the walls of the faux-school auditorium. The slayer looked around in bewilderment as pieces of the ceiling crashed around her and the walls began toppling onto the floor.

There was something here. Something powerful. He could feel a tentacle of magic reach for her and he screamed something barbaric and pulled his silver sword out.

Suddenly, he was terribly afraid.

His arms swung in mighty arcs over the power that surged through the room but he could not sever the magic that threatened to take his slayer away. It was more powerful than him…yet few things could be more powerful than an angel.

Her eyes grew round and he could have sworn she was watching him. But then an invisible fist clutched her torso and she was yanked through the floor. He followed as swiftly as his wings would carry him, mad eyes scanning the earth below. Others witnessed his descent but no one's gaze lingered. After all, there were more important things to worry about. Things like the Apocalypse.

He became disoriented as he fell and he struggled to maintain a lock onto her soul. He had no idea where she was going but fear clutched his heart. Was she being taken to Hell? Had Lucifer somehow managed this?

But his fears were alleviated when he saw that she was thrust back into her old body as it began re-knitting itself. He witnessed in astonishment as her fingers, curled into claws, dug through the earth. She emerged like something she used to slay out of her grave and stared at the world in bewilderment.

And that was when he knew. She had been brought back. Like his friend Castiel brought Dean Winchester back. But why? And why had no one told him?

As he watched her stagger through the burning city of Sunnydale he felt a swirl of emotions he had never experienced before. This never should have happened. She had been _happy_. At peace. Her service was over.

Anger spread through him like fire. He could feel it coursing through the veins of his vessel. THIS was wrong. She never should have been brought back like this!

His anger enflamed, he prayed that it would just swallow him. He was disappointed by Heaven's new action; it was the type of feeling a child would have once they realized their father is only human. But his Father wasn't human, was he? So he was just wrong then.

And then the flames of his anger licked his insides, he realized how he felt like a phoenix. Full of flames yet never dead, not truly. They live forever. And that gave him an idea.

So he allowed his anger to swallow him whole and faked his death for his brethren, only to begin a new life secretly.

A life where he wasn't a dog.

A/N:

This is a one-shot now because I have too many in-progress stories at the moment )bad case of no-time-and-no-inspiration) and I'm unsure if I'll be able to continue this…Ideally, I would like to but we'll see how this is received…

This is from Balthazar's point of view, by the way. He first appears in Supernatural Season 6 episode 3 "The Third Man" and he said that he left Heaven because Cas gave him the idea. _I_ thought there would be more to that :)


	2. 1 Faked Death Check 2 Secret Hiding P

1) Faked Death -Check 2) Secret Hiding Plan- Next

A/N:

This fic is for Shulik who definitely inspired my mind's fervent desire for Buffy/Balthazar ;D

Since Balthazar is a season 6 character, expect some spoilers for 6. You can read more about him at: .?title=Balthazar

This story will take place in the year after Season 5 of Supernatural and Season 5 of BTVS, aka Season 6 (Silly 1-year jump for SPN that throws off the years being the same!

And here is a gif of Balthazar; it gives you a clue about his personality as well (Take from S6 ep "The French Mistake" and created by Mathlai who created a plethora of awesome images at /images/balthazar%20supernatural%20gif/):

Faking one's death isn't as easy it as sounds. When an angel dies it leaves an imprint of its wings on the surface of where he or she was killed. Not only that, but a certain smell lingered behind, noticeable to only another angel. The scent could only be referred to as 'burnt grace' for that is what it smelled like to them; like the aroma left behind by lightning striking a tree. To properly stage his death was no easy affair.

But it was well worth it.

Bitterness flooded through him as he hid his celestial body carefully within the earth under the ocean floor. Balthazar would be a fool to take a new human vessel so quickly. No, he would have to wait until his brethren gave up hope and completed their mourning.

Angels are not very good at keeping track of time. It's such a silly human concept that they had no patience for it. Their grace could ferry them across decades and halfway around the world. Time had never mattered to Balthazar before.

But now he knew that the slayer – _his_ slayer – was all alone. Or, perhaps not alone. She did have those friends of hers, the 'Scoobies' he thought. But could they properly understand? Would they ever know the blissful paradise she had been kidnapped from? No, he doubted it. After all, what were they but human?

_Yes, but isn't the slayer human?_ an impetuous voice whispered in his mind.

Well, perhaps so. But…she was different. Clearly.

_Remember the Grigori? Remember how Gabriel destroyed those angels sent to the earth to help humans, yet instead married human women and bore children? Do you really plan on joining with the slayer?_ the voice continued.

Some would call the voice his conscience. He just called it a fucking nuisance.

Besides, _Gabriel_ had faked his own death long ago. Word recently traveled that the archangel had been in hiding for centuries as the pagan god Loki. Talk about being a hypocrite – killing one's brethren because they rebelled against Father yet then later rebelling yourself. With the dirty _pagans_ of all things.

It had been Castiel's defection from the Host that made Balthazar realize that free will was possible, that upon the realization of the betrayal dealt to the slayer he was able to leave. But in reality, he supposed he had more in common with his eldest brother now in faking his death. Shame that Lucifer killed him.

Wait! Lucifer did kill him, as the scuttlebutt said. But apparently Gabriel did it to protect a pagan goddess. What was her name again? All those pagan seemed the same to him. Bitchy whiny things, the lot of them.

Still. Gabriel had been able to hide from the Host for many years. Perhaps his goddess consort would give Balthazar a few tips?

It was worth a shot, as the slayer would say.

***

Some time later he had found a proper vessel and convinced the host to give the body up. That had not been terribly easy. The vessel was a forty-five year old man and some former rock star that enjoyed his life of drugs and woman. Who would want to give such a life up? Not to mention, Balthazar didn't exactly have a holy need for the body. Most angels told their vessels that by saying 'yes' and letting them use the human's body they would be working for God. Well, he wasn't exactly doing that anymore, was he?

Then again, God had disappeared long ago. Were any of his brethren truly working for him anymore? No… but perhaps Castiel. He did apparently help stop the Apocalypse, after all.

Luckily, one time Balthazar came to the rocker while he was stoned and the man said yes. Victorious, Balthazar finally had a body. Upon assessment he realized it may even be a body that the slayer would find attractive. Six foot, blond hair, scruffy facial hair, impressive set of abs, and a overall look that made him appear younger than the man's age.

The women in the streets particularly seemed to like him. Unfortunately for them, he was not interested.

But it was too soon to meet the slayer. First he needed to figure out how to hide himself. Sunnydale was closely watched over by the 'Powers That Be' – the administrative group of angels overseen by Raphael. Bunch of dicks, those ones. If they suspected that an angel was interfering with the slayer they'd do something right awful to her in order to 'balance the scales.'

Dicks.

It took some time but eventually he performed enough spy/maiming work among the supernatural crowd to discover the pagan goddess that Gabriel had died for, Kali. Sources said that she could be found at her main temple Dakshineswar Kali Temple on the bank of the Hooghly River. He zapped himself there (honestly, he could just hear the slayer's voice in his head describing his method of transportation as such) and sure enough, he felt a dark presence there.

The temple itself had nine spires that glistened golden underneath the setting sun, with a scattering of maroon-painted roofs. Inside the compound that held the temple was a large courtyard that was taken care of very well with bright green grass and dozens of palm trees. He meandered around the courtyard for he was certain there was _something_ here, As the sun set he became the only person left, for all other tourists had been ushered out. Of course, he had the advantage of the 'Jedi mind-trick' to ensure he was not bothered by the humans nagging the visitors.

Frustrated by the lack of show on Kali's part, he began chanting in Enochian and attempted to summon the door to her home. While there were no buildings here he swore she must have magically concealed it somehow.

When the skeletons came out during mid-chant, he knew he was correct about figuring out Kali's location.

Four human skeletons, bright white under the waxing moon, shone brilliantly as they approached him. Their limbs swayed and they moved as if in a dance, with each hand clutching a long curved sword.

It was eerie, but honestly the broad would have to work harder than that. He had been around for sodding ever and it took more than that to kill him.

"_Leave_" one skeleton rasped in a murderous female voice.

"Hey now, I'm not trying to cause any trouble. Don't get your pelvic bone all up in a twist, darling," he smirked. "I just want to talk to the missus about my long lost bro, Gabriel."

The skeletons halted several feet away from him. One minute passed and then ten. Finally the earth opened under the feet of the skeletons and swallowed them whole.

"Nice trick," he admired. Something shimmered like a mirage before him and suddenly he was looking at another temple that seemed to rise up from the ground, replacing the deathly guards. "Really nice trick," he murmured as the door to the temple opened. He sauntered in and pivoted once to get the full glimpse of the place. He had stepped into a large foyer with two doorways on each side leading to separate rooms and a staircase featured in the middle. White stone, unlike anything he had seen before, made up the interior of the temple. Soft candlelight illuminated the sparkling attributes of the stone and he was momentarily transfixed by the sight.

_"Oooh, shiny."_ He could practically hear her whisper it in awe; the slayer's voice came to him more often since he had left heaven.

"I rarely allow angels in my home," a husky voice snapped at him. Balthazar looked up to see, he presumed, Kali walking towards him barefoot and garbed in a deep blue sari. "Or to live for that matter," she huffed.

A playful smirk crossed his lips. "Please, stop with the sweet talk. You're making me blush with how special I must be."

Her eyes flashed black and for a moment Balthazar thought she was possessed. But then they faded to their previous color, a dark brown, and he had to forcibly lower his shoulders; seeing demon eyes made his body go to 'fight' mode on automatic. "You seek me to discuss Gabriel. Why?" Kali asked coolly.

Balthazar sighed. How should he phrase this? "You knew Gabriel as Loki. You know he hid from us. I need to know if you know how he did it."

Kali stared at him, the slight raise of her eyebrows the only change in her icy expression. Then the corners of her full lips rose up and she began laughing – like she was mocking him.

Furious, Balthazar unfurled his wings and used the tips of his invisible wings to press her shoulders against the wall. "This is no joke, pagan. I must know the secret!" he growled like a man unhinged. Which he was, he supposed.

Twin tiger roars filled the airs and out of the corners of his eyes he witnessed two beastly tigers approaching him from each side. Kali's eyes turned black again and the air warmed up considerably. "You think to treat me with dishonor in my own home, angel?" she hissed.

The tigers growled in warning.

"I need to know," he demanded. If she didn't know then it was hopeless, all hopeless. He could never go to the slayer, never make himself known. For if he couldn't hide his true identity he would only make her a target.

"Release me or I kill you," she bit back frostily.

"Hey now! Come one, guys. Can't we all just get along?" a cheerful voice called from the stairway.

A/N:

Thank you to those who reviewed! I had a insufferable finance course today for work and essentially daydreamed the plot to this story so there is a plan! Yay! Expect shorter chapters than I normally do, as a warning. My time and mind aren't quite with it at the moment but Musie does want to play with this story, in between the Crescent, Lenore, & Dawn/Lucifer story! :D

_References_:  
Kali's Temple: .org/wiki/Dakshineswar_Kali_Temple


	3. Quid Pro Quo

Quid Pro Quo

A/N:

Hey, reviews AND recs? Wow, you guys made my day! Mad thanks to Shulik and clockworkorange for the recs and to everyone who reviewed and/or is tracking! Tis appreciated!

I'm excited that I had more time to write today. After a stressful week of TWO major job interviews, I got to have some me!time. yay! (also, double yay that both interviews went quite well! I'll find out next week…if I get nada expect some angst fic where Buffy is a vampire and kills the Scoobies, or something equally morbid. lol)

Balthazar looked up in alarm at the new voice, curious yet apprehensive by the cheer in the man's tone. That is, if he was a man at all. Releasing Kali, he took a step back and peered critically at the newcomer. He didn't appear particularly impressive with his highlighted brown hair slicked back and his average looks. Even his clothes were unimpressive, just simple jeans and a tan jacket. He was like an 'everyman' that could blend into any crowd.

And yet…there was something about him. Power radiated slightly from the man – not as impressive as Kali's aura but still significant. His amber eyes glowed and his lips were curled into a secretive smile.

"I'm always happy to get along with others, particularly in bed," Balthazar joked with a leer in Kali's direction. If there was one thing he had learned from watching the slayer was the advantage one had if your enemies underestimated you. Flirtatious and meaningless conversation was always helpful in that regard.

The man smirked and began walking down the stairs while Kali glared daggers at Balthazar. He descended slowly, as if he was weak, and immediately wrapped his arm around Kali. Balthazar was quick to notice the subtle way that Kali supported the man in standing.

"A goddess with an angel?" the man said lightly with a sly smile. "Now wouldn't that be amusing."

Kali gave the man a sidelong look of annoyance. "Hilarious," she commented dryly.

Balthazar laughed because it was a moment that he _thought_ he was supposed to but he wasn't quite sure why. "So, just what are you, mate?" he asked. "Pagan? Demon?" He felt like a pagan but Balthazar couldn't be entirely sure.

A single brow rose. "And _that_ is the million dollar question, now isn't it?" he stated drolly. He waved a hand. "Come on, let's have a seat."

Kali and the man departed the foyer through the right-hand doorway and into an exquisitely designed –and immense – room featuring blood-red walls and gold-colored furniture. Several couches and armchairs were upholstered in gold fabric and the scattered tables appeared to be made of solid gold. A long rug extended over most of the uncovered floor and was a deep black, dark as space, spotted with miniscule golden dots that numbered in the millions, if not billions.

Such a peculiar rug…as Balthazar stared into it a sense of disorientation flew through him. The golden dots appeared to glow and suddenly his vision narrowed in on just one golden circle, magnifying it in his eyes. It shimmered a moment before it showed an image of someone…the slayer herself.

She was in a dark, dank looking room filled with metal shelving, numerous boxes and jars, and a myriad of random human things (knick-knacks, they called them?). Balthazar's breath caught in his throat as he realized this was the first time he had seen her since her fall from Heaven. Her golden hair was swept back and—wait, had she…why, she had cut it! It was above her shoulders now and his wings involuntarily twitched at the sight – he found it quite adorable. Watching her, he saw her begin to grapple with a gnarled mummy hand, finally succeeding when she stabbed it with an iron dagger.

He smirked at the conquering image before it faded and the golden dot shrunk as his vision returned to normal. Losing his balance, his hand braced against the wall and he looked up to find he had two observers.

"Bloody hell, I should probably give up my liquor," he remarked lightly as he regained his footing.

Snorting in disagreement, the man fell back into an overstuffed love seat. Likewise, Kali took a seat next to the man and motioned for Balthazar to sit across from them in a plush easy chair. "Liquor? Thought good little angels weren't allowed to drink," the man commented.

Balthazar said nothing. Let them think what they will. All he needed was information and he was gone. To her.

"What did you see, angel?" Kali inquired curiously as her eyes searched his expression.

"A very decadent Liberace-style decorating scheme." Balthazar grinned. "Very nice, I must say."

She frowned. "This rug was once my swaddling clothes and is tied inextricably to the souls of living humans. Only those connected to a human can use it to see someone." Her head cocked to the side and the man gave Balthazar a sharper look. "So I ask again, what – or rather who – did you see, angel?"

Stiffening, he gave the two of them a heavy look. He had never experienced pagan magic before and he found it interesting – although confusing – that a mere pagan could have such a powerful artifact. Research had informed him that Kali was the 'Goddess of Eternal Energy' or some rubbish like that. He could understand why she would own such an artifact but had no idea _how_ she would have obtained such a thing.

"I saw nothing but tacky decorating," he replied in a cutting tone. He'd be damned if he ever led a pagan know about Buffy. The girl constantly found trouble as it was, he certainly didn't need to help her out in that department.

Twin tiger snarls echoed through the temple in warning as Kali's black eyes bore into his.

"Now, now," the man said with a toothy grin and a wag of his finger. "You are a guest, Balthazar. Be a good little boy and maybe we can all play nice."

Eyes narrowing, Balthazar judged the man again. "Just how do you know my name?" After all, he had a new vessel. No outsider should be able to recognize him.

The man snickered in amusement and leaned back against the couch. "Uh, let's see…A few months ago an angel 'died' in Sunnydale, the most active Hellmouth of the western world – the same day the slayer Buffy Anne Summers was resurrected and Sam Winchester jumped back into the hole – locking Lucifer and Michael into the Cage with him."

Balthazar breathed in a sharp intake of air. Yes, the Apocalypse hadn't gone as planned. He had heard his brethren communicating about it while he watched Buffy in her heaven and attempted to prevent her kidnapping. Yet, he had not put two and two together. These events were connected somehow, clearly.

"Peculiar, isn't it? And now there's an angel asking about the one once known as Gabriel, who everyone knows is dead. Gabriel, who had faked his death and adopted a new identity. I suppose you're doing the same, right?" the man asked.

Sitting across from couple, Balthazar searched the man's eyes. Using his full angelic senses he felt out the man but couldn't quite place him. Less powerful than Kali, more powerful than an average supernatural creature, and carrying just a hint of familiarity…just who was he? "Yes, I am," he replied briskly.

Kali laughed. "No pagan god in this day and age is as desperate as Loki was long ago. You will find no one to help you."

"Gabriel had pagan help?" Balthazar's nose crinkled in slight disgust. It was hard enough to him to ask for meager help from the creatures he once used to battle long ago, back when they began stealing his Father's worshippers. But Gabriel? One more powerful and more deadly than so many of the angels? He couldn't believe it.

"Of course," the man answered, his lips twitching. "Don't you know your Norse bedtime stories? Loki was poisoned and dying. Of course, unlike what the Eddas tell you, Gabriel approached Loki and made a deal – he would release the ancient one's spirit in exchange for his supernatural body. They blended their magics, pagan and heavenly, and Gabriel merged into Loki, and the true Trickster's spirit ascended." He paused and cocked his head. "Or is it descended?" He shrugged. "Wherever Purgatory is."

"So in order to hide from my brethren I must merge with a pagan?" Balthazar surmised. Then he winked at Kali. "Does this involve any ritualistic sex?"

Alright, while sometimes he used inappropriate statements just to make others underestimate him, he was being almost honest about his desire. All the things once forbidden to him were finally his for the taking! Including sex. A beautiful and holy act…something he would experience for himself, if he was lucky…

"No," Kali and the man snapped in unison. The man wrapped an arm protectively around his lover. "So why do you want to hide, anyways?" he asked.

"It is personal."

The man smiled. "Hey, _you're_ the one wanting _our_ help. So entertain us with some gossip, angel."

"The Apocalypse has thrown Heaven into chaos. I thought I would get out while the getting was good," he answered simply.

The man gave him a knowing look but then shrugged. "Whatever you say," he trailed off significantly. "Although I know for Gabriel it was a bit more complicated. Guy couldn't stand anymore of that dickish behavior upstairs with his Dad and brothers fighting. Instead of dealing with it, he took off so he didn't have to witness anymore deaths." The man's voice wavered slightly towards the end and Balthazar looked up in interest as he continued talking. "Of course, he realized towards the end what really mattered. Humanity. Kali."

Surprisingly, the intimidating goddess blushed slightly.

"So he stopped being a coward and faced Lucifer. Only thing is, he wasn't a match for big bro and he bit the big one." The man's amber eyes averted, but beforehand Balthazar glimpsed a melancholy look.

Balthazar couldn't figure out the conflicting man before him. The one who was not human, not angel, yet not quite pagan either; the one who explained Gabriel's story so sincerely and with so much emotion. There was only one possible answer, but that answer was moot. Gabriel was dead.

Wasn't he?

"Gabriel?" Balthazar answered softly.

The man gave him an impish grin, snapped his fingers, and suddenly colorful balloons fell from the ceiling, almost filling the room to capacity. "Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!" he boomed out in an announcer's voice.

Kali let out a sufferable sigh and rolled her eyes. "I am retreating to my chambers. I find this one to be tiresome." Her eyes roved over the two of them and a muscle twitched in her cheek. "Perhaps it is a family trait," she remarked blandly as she exited the room, gracefully pushing dozens of balloons out of her way.

"Gabriel?" Balthazar repeated in bewilderment.

He spread his arms out. "In the flesh!"

"But…you…where is your grace?" Balthazar asked in an appalled voice.

A troubled expression flitted over his features before he smoothed them out. "All gone," Gabriel answered in a controlled voice. "Luci killed me, just like I said."

"But how…why…?"

Gabriel clucked his tongue. "Kali. That night she bound my blood to her. Turns out being blood bound to a woman of her stature carried a much better severance package than Dad's."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning she resurrected me using my vessel's body, Loki's body with Loki's powers. But, she couldn't bring back my grace. Kali doesn't have access to that level of power." His jaw tightened. "And now, neither do I."

By examining Gabriel's face it was clear the angel – former angel? – was distraught. An angel's grace was their entire _being_, what blood was to a human and so much more. To be without? Balthazar could not imagine the phantom pain of missing what one once had.

Gabriel raised one eyebrow. "So trust me when I say you should really think this through, Balthazar. I remember you from the days before I left Heaven, back when you were a good little soldier." He squinted at his brother. "Weren't you in the same garrison as Uriel? And—" Gabriel cut off his words in mid-sentence as realization dawned upon him. "And Castiel," he added almost smugly, proud of his critical thinking skills. "So _that's_ where you got the idea, huh?"

Laughing softly under his breath, Gabriel shook his head. "Can't say I'm surprised that Castiel became somewhat of a trend setter. Of course, if he had wanted to maintain his powers he would have faked his death, like I had. That way no one knew I was gone and no spell was performed to cut off my supply from Heaven." He gave Balthazar an approving nod. "You were very smart to do so."

Balthazar remained silent. Gabriel wasn't too far off the mark but he certainly wasn't going to tell the complete story. They may be brothers but Balthazar had not seen him in two thousand years. The truth was a benefit Gabriel had not yet earned.

Gabriel shrugged. "Listen bro, I'm still recovering from, ya know, the whole death thing. Thankfully Kali realized, better later than never, that she _is_ in love with me" –he grinned – "and I'm staying here until I adjust accordingly to my new limitations. I don't know how much help I can be. After all, it's not like we have access to any dying gods, now do we?"

Balthazar nodded, but then Gabriel's eyes glinted with knowledge as an idea came to him. "Actually, I take that back. Maybe I can help you."

Hope swelled within Balthazar. "Truly?"

Gabriel gave him a sly smile. "Certainly…with a bit of quid pro quo, anyways."

A/N:  
Except some SunnyD action next!

_References_:  
*In Hinduism Kali plays dual roles of both the Divine Mother and the Goddess of Destruction. Her role, as I see it, is partly to see the 'big picture' of the world and the fates of humans. More of my thoughts of Kali and her personality can also be found in my other fic, 'Living as Lenore'! ;)

* Bal's vision of Buffy is real-time and takes place in Season 6 "Life Serial" where the geeks play pranks on her and at this moment she's struggling to sell a mummy hand.

A very decadent Liberace-style decorating scheme." Balthazar grinned. "Very nice, I must say." – Season 6 of spn featured Bal living in a house that the Winchesters referred to as a Liberace-esque pad.

*In Norse Mythology Loki was punished for killing Baldur and sentenced to be tied to a rock and have a venomous snake essentially drip venom on him for eternity, while his wife Sigyn struggled to catch as much venom as possible in the bowl. Many 'fanon' accounts of Gabriel choose this moment as to when the two beings merged/Gabe took Loki as a vessel.

*Gabriel was killed in Hammer of the Gods, season 5. Beforehand Kali swiped droplets of his blood and bound him to her so that way he couldn't escape and she could reveal to the other pagans that angels could be killed. In my head, this is the perfect reason why Gabe could be brought back! *wishes the spn writers would think of the same thing*

*Castiel said that he and Balthazar were friends and had served in war together. Uriel and Cas were in the same garrison thus I presume Bal was as well.


	4. Come On Baby, Light My Fire

**Come On Baby, Light My Fire**

**A/N:**  
Many thanks to MysticOracle and slatergirl for the recs! And thanks to all for reading and reviewing!

Balthazar arrived in Sunnydale a week after his sojourn at Kali's temple. Sunlight was retreating past the horizon, making way for a ghostly full moon. The town was silent except for the musical sound of crickets that were being especially noisy tonight. It was as if, unconsciously, the humans on the Hellmouth knew better than to stray out after dark. He knew somewhere, perhaps at the Bronze; they were out, but not here.

No – few humans would tarry at cemeteries even under the protective light of the sun.

The evil emanating from the Hellmouth created a dull sensation drumming upon his senses; which was odd because he typically had to struggle to close himself off from the power of the Hellmouth's energy – angels were very sensitive when it came to Hellmouths.

After Lucifer's fall from grace he had created dimensional portals in strategic places over the earth. These portals were openings into malevolent dimensions of the universe and bred demons of all kinds. Once Lucifer was locked in the Cage his minions overtook the portals, subsequently called Hellmouths, but the forces of good now maintained a tenuous hold on each one. Of course, the forces of evil were always attempting to take control of the Hellmouths.

Originally it prophesized that the Sunnydale Hellmouth was to fall to the forces of evil – according to Raphael and his Powers That Be. The Master was scheduled to take control of this Hellmouth; for whatever reason Balthazar could not understand. Raphael and the PTB craved balance in the world and believed it was essential that everything operated in a harmonious state – which apparently meant giving up a Hellmouth. Balthazar thought that perspective was rubbish and overall scorned the way those angels used humans as chess pieces. More so, Sunnydale was right above Los Angeles – so close to where the Slayer was living at the time. If the Hellmouth fell then evil would soon overtake the western coast and she would be the one responsible for defending it.

It was as if the PTB _wanted_her dead. Balthazar could see no other outcome at the time. So, after the slayer had burned down her school gymnasium he had created some divine intervention. It was a simple matter to make the Sunnydale art gallery director to fall in love with an art collector in Colorado and for the Slayer's mother to read the job listing in the newspaper.

Sometimes he wondered if he did the right thing…wondered if he was no better than Uncle Raphie and the PTB with the way he maneuvered the Slayer and her family. Chess pieces, still. Yet his desires were noble – and thus right.

After wandering aimlessly in the cemetery for a while and hoping to find the slayer patrolling, he was taken aback by the sound of music – and not the kind one hears on a human machine. This music was live. Intrigued, he went in the direction of the sound located farther into the cemetery.  
_  
"Every single night, the same arrangement  
I go out and fight the fight.  
Still I always feel this strange estrangement  
Nothing here is real, nothing here is right."  
_  
The voice was female and familiar, although certainly not Broadway-worthy. As he walked past a tomb and saw the area beyond he realized why the voice was so familiar. It was _her_.

Balthazar leaned against the marble tomb and marveled at the sight of her fighting several demons.

As an angel, he had didn't always understand human colloquialism. Take the word 'breathtaking', for example. Lungs operate on an involuntary basis. Unless air is blocked or the person stubbornly holds their breath, a human will always take in breath. Nothing could take that from them. However, now he possessed new insight into that word.

Seeing her for the first time alive since she was taken from heaven – from him – suspended the movement of every particle of his being for one single moment as he instead turned his full attention upon the girl in front of him. Her movements were well-rehearsed yet still captivating as she single-handedly defeated her opponents and saved the male bystander. His heart cried out for her and he was wont to go to her, but he forced himself to refrain. He understood that a stranger approaching a girl in the night wasn't exactly the best way to make one's acquaintance.

Although…his slayer wasn't exactly typical. In fact, if he remembered correctly, that was how she met that ponce of a vampire.

So after she finished singing her melancholy tune, he began to discretely follow her. The lyrics to her song were distressing and it was visible to him just how much she was hurting after being thrust out of Heaven. He had hoped she wouldn't remember – most humans never do, in fact. Clearly Raphael or someone had an ulterior motive. After all, only one of the archangels had the power to expel someone from Heaven and then allow them to remember it.

Or God. But, Balthazar was quite certain that his Father was out of the picture. For if he wasn't, then he had a _lot_of explaining to do.

He followed the slayer all the way back to her house, just to make sure she was safe – but in reality he was just putting off the inevitability of talking to her. While he had studied the slayer and those around her since she was Called and more or less understood humans and their world, he had yet to speak to one of them. With his luck he'd say something awful and she'd try to chop off his head.

But a peculiar thing happened once she reached her porch. She turned around and scanned her hazel eyes across the street, finding him standing in a neighbor's yard. He froze, surprised that she had been able to detect him – no one could detect an angel when he chose to make himself hidden. The slayer's head tilted as she sought a better look of him and her gaze burned him.

Balthazar teleported away before she could say anything. He wasn't ready. Not yet.

* * *

Dawn had been kidnapped.

"Just another Tuesday," Buffy sighed to herself as the door to the Magic Shop shut behind her. Except this wasn't quite like any other Tuesday. This time her friends had made it clear that they weren't going to help her.  
_  
"It's up to you Buffy"_

"What do you expect me to do?"

"Your best."

Well, fine. She was used to being alone. Ever since they had brought her back…

Buffy choked back a silent sob. She couldn't think about that day – or really any day since then. Dawn needed her…even though, if she was honest with herself, she really was just going through the motions. Buffy didn't care either way what happened anymore. But a small segment of her brain told her that she was _supposed_to care, and thus she did.

…Although…last night…something odd had happened. A flicker of warmth struck her without warning when she was standing outside her house last night. Her eyes had peered into the darkness, like metal falling under the power of a magnet, yet she had seen nothing. And still the feeling lingered a moment longer before disappearing.

She was starting to wonder if she was going crazy. Then she realized that she probably was already crazy, so it didn't really matter.

The sight of flames caught her eye – a trash fire in the street. Mesmerized, she walked towards it and held her hand above the pulsating warmth.

_"I touch the fire, and it freezes me."_

* * *

Balthazar was a mess.

He couldn't stop invisibly watching the Slayer but he was at a loss of how to interact with her. Any potential opening phrases were immediately discarded as drivel. He wished she was in a bar. Maybe then he could do the standard human male pick-up technique of buying her a drink.

_'What? Like that Ben fellow did last year, you sodding idiot?' _he mentally rebuked himself.

No. Unfortunately he had witnessed every moment of the Slayer's life since she had been Called. He knew what worked – but refused to do it on the account that others had already done it. No sir, he was certainly not going to skulk in the shadows, save her life, or be a bloody boring wanker with a gun and a flak jacket. No, Balthazar had style.

_'Oh, so that's why you're skulking in the bloody shadows then, eh?'_

"Oh shut up," he muttered to himself. Thankfully, the Slayer and her Scooby pals – plus that vampire with the grotesque dye job – were busy dancing and singing a song, now that the demon Sweet had returned to his dimension, and thus did not hear him.

Soberly, he watched the Slayer's lackluster movements. Tonight was the night she gave her friends and family the revelation that she had been in Heaven all along, not Hell. Their guilty looks had been interesting. Balthazar had just arrived in town the other night and therefore was sorrowfully behind on the going-ons of his former charge. Why had she not told them about Heaven? And why did they seem to think that they were the ones responsible for expelling her?

Balthazar let out a mild snort. Humans. Bloody self-deceiving, the whole lot of them. As if any of them – even the redheaded witch – had enough power for a true resurrection.

A flash of movement caught his eye and Balthazar observed the Slayer leave the Bronze nightclub. The vampire followed her.

A growl passed his lips. He had disliked the way the vampire looked at her in the months before her death. Now that she was his – even if she did not know it yet – fury engulfed him at the thought that the vampire dared to pursue her! His song earlier tonight had been aggravating enough.

That was why, after the Slayer had walked out of the club and the vampire was close to following her lead, he telekinetically shoved the vampire into a closet and locked it. Of course the stupid sod had to start banging on the door so Balthazar had to knock him out.

_'That hurt me more than it hurt you,'_Balthazar thought with a wicked smile. Then he went outside to follow the Slayer.

She was vulnerable now. He could tell by the tension caught in her shoulders. Her admittance about Heaven had hurt her worse than he would have thought.

Dear Father, how he craved to hold her, to ease her troubles. His heart bled at the thought of her distress.  
_  
"You might look but you never see  
I see you and my world falls away  
Maybe this is not meant to be  
For you from Heaven, I did sway"  
_  
Balthazar blinked in surprise. Those words had been issued from his mouth. And not just in a regular tone, but smoothly in song. Pure emotion, fraught with love and nervousness.

The Slayer turned, slowly. Her hazel eyes locked onto him, capturing his blue eyes. Pink lips parted in – what? Surprise? Confusion?

He realized that she could see him. He didn't even remember uncloaking himself.

The sound of a swirling electronic keyboard surrounded them. Vaguely he recognized it sounding similar to a Doors song – 'Light My Fire', if he remembered correctly. The slayer that he had been observing in 1969 once took out ten vampires at a house party while this song played on the stereo.

Balthazar became louder as he crooned in a voice that would have made Jim Morrison envious.  
_  
They called me the Guardian of the Slayer  
For millennia I've watched over each girl  
Observing the life and death of every player  
Then you arrived, glistening like a freshwater pearl.  
_  
Music surrounded them. He saw the Slayer's eyes spark in response to his voice so he continued to sing – although to be quite honest he wasn't sure if he could stop by this point.

Balthazar shot her a condoling smile.  
_  
Slayer, up in Heaven we couldn't get much higher  
You know that would be untrue  
You know that I would be a liar  
But we'll be fine down here; I'll light your fire.  
_  
The Slayer took a step forward, and then a step back as if she didn't know what to think, before she began to sing in an apprehensive voice.  
_  
Something about you plays at my mind  
Something foreign, something strange  
It tugs on a string that threatens to unwind  
But I fear if I remember all might change  
_  
After singing, the Slayer looked uneasy and Balthazar followed his compulsion to approach her. The back of his hand caressed her cheek, and they both shivered in response.  
_  
I thought I had experienced the utter bliss of Heaven  
Then I fell down to you, finally able to touch you  
Your touch is worth more than Heaven times seven  
The way you look at me threatens to undo  
_  
The Slayer's hand came up slowly to cup the hand he held against her cheek, holding him in place as she sang.  
_  
For months I've been going through the motions  
Ripped from Heaven back to where everything's dire  
_  
She paused and swallowed heavily before staring up into his eyes. His stomach clenched in reaction as he looked into her eyes and witnessed up close and personal her scarred soul. It was still beautiful - _she_ was still beautiful – but she was wounded.  
_  
I forgot what it even means to have emotions  
Come on baby light my fire.  
_  
The Slayer's song was almost pleading as she repeated herself. _"Come on baby, light my fire." _

His hand was still cupping her cheek when he pulled the Slayer against him, crushing his lips against hers in a fervent display of love and devotion. Her arms wrapped around his neck, tangling in his blond locks, as she returned the kiss with a heated passion that left him moaning.

"Buffy."

* * *

**A/N: **

Wham, bam, I didn't take too long for smoochies, did I? Ah, one must love creative plot devices such as making everyone burst into song to declare their true feelings! …of course, that doesn't mean things get easy just because of a 'lil song ;)

As always, reviews are appreciated! :)

**Disclaimer: **  
*The melody comes from the Doors "Light My Fire", published in 1969. A couple of the lines from the song were used, like "Come on baby, light my fire" but the rest I made up. I'm no professional, so forgive me if you don't think it's a breakaway pop hit ;) I chose that melody/song because Buffy sang about wanting to feel the fire in this episode.  
*This chapter takes place during the Season 6 episode "Once More with Feeling" Some dialogue and lyrics were used (just Buffy thinking about Giles' words and Buffy's first and second songs, before she meets Balthazar)

**References:**  
*Lucifer creating the Hellmouths: I also used this idea in Toeing the Line Between Evil and the Divine To me, it is the most likely explanation for making the 2 worlds the same.  
*The Master taking over the Sunnydale Hellmouth: Idea from S3 episode 'The Wish', which is what happens when Buffy goes to Cleveland and not Sunnydale.


	5. Not So Much a Diapery Cupidy Angel

**Not So Much a Diaper-y Cupid-y Angel**

* * *

The kiss sent shockwaves through Buffy's entire body. All at once she felt something both familiar and new, causing her brain to overload with the sheer fact that she was even _feeling_ something for the first time since she was brought back. The man's left arm was wrapped tightly around her back, hugging her body to his, while his right hand cupped her cheek like she was fragile, made of porcelain. Vaguely she was aware of the music – psychedelic keyboard, and guitar – beginning to fade into the background. As it did, Buffy felt herself returning to her senses.

What the hell was she doing kissing a random guy in the middle of the street?

She broke off the kiss and pulled out of his grasp, with one part of her brain instantly regretting the decision. His look of bewilderment and hurt didn't make her feel good either, but then again, she should probably not worry about the feelings of some random guy.

'_But he's not random,'_one part of her mind spoke. Buffy shook it off. She could figure out her feelings on this guy later.

"Buffy? What is it?" he asked with a child's innocence. She winced at his casual use of her name. He _did_ conjure up feelings within her, but they were feelings associated with a place she was determined not to think about. It hurt too much. Not to mention, it confused the hell (or was that heaven?) out of her.

"I don't even know you," she stated with all the tact of Cordelia.

Suddenly he looked like she had just kicked his puppy. Or kicked and then brutally murdered his puppy, judging by his forlorn look. His lips pressed into a thin line and then a determined look gleamed in his eye. "I'm Balthazar." He spoke with a sense of conviction that she should know him, but all she could recognize is that he had some sort of European accent – kinda English-y, she figured.

Her lips, swollen from his kisses, quirked up before she could stop them. "_Bal_thazar?" she repeated skeptically.

"Oh right, like _Buffy _is the bloody name of the century," Balthazar snorted in derision.

Buffy let out a harsh and annoyed scoff as her jaw dropped. "Excuse me? There is nothing _bloody_ wrong with my name!" she snapped back with her hands on her hips.

"Well, _no_, not if you're a brainless upper-class idiot sipping tea and wearing a big church hat," Balthazar chuckled, his hand stroking his chin as he watched her reaction with amusement. "But for you, darling, it just doesn't quite match your whole 'stakes and slayer' bit."

Her muscles tensed, like that of a predator cornered in the wild. "Who are you and how do you know about me?" Buffy asked. Intent eyes examined every inch of his flesh, trying to figure out what sort of supernatural creature he was.

Balthazar pursed his lips like he was regretting his choice of words. He held his hands up in the classic 'surrender' pose. "Now, hold up. No worries, love."

She bristled at him calling her 'love'. Who the hell was this guy?

He paused, as if he was searching for the perfect choice of words, but then he shrugged. "I'm an Angel of the Lord." Balthazar almost seemed embarrassed by his words.

Take aback, Buffy stared at him curiously. The guy was about six foot and presenting himself like a rocker with jeans, a grey v-neck shirt and a black jacket that hung open over his chest. His facial hair was kind of scraggly, like he didn't care about his appearance – or else he just really cared that people didn't think he cared. His blond hair was arrayed messily – thanks to her, she realized in embarrassment at the memory of her throwing herself at him. Wrinkles crisscrossing his face displayed his age of maybe forty-something. But his eyes and smile are what stood out the most. He possessed a perpetual smirking half-grin, as if he was always amused by something. And his eyes…they were an ice blue that almost glowed under the light of the streetlights, and they tugged at something within her.

But one thing was for sure – he _so_ did not look like an 'angel'. So Buffy, after holding in her laughter at his name, finally released what had been building inside of her.

Balthazar looked affronted by her laughter. "What's so funny?" he asked with mild irritation.

"I'm sorry, I just—" Buffy snickered again. "You look more like some cross between a Hell's Angel and a Charlie's Angel, than all feathery and cupid-y in a diaper."

His eyes had softened at seeing her laugh, but they lost that description when she mentioned the diaper part. "I'll have you know that is just a stupid description made up by the Italian artist Raphael." Balthazar grimaced while Buffy still giggled.

"Ri-ight," she drawled. "Whatever you say."

"You mean, you don't believe me?" Balthazar asked incredulously. She just raised a sardonic eyebrow in response. "Bloody hell, Slayer! I'm not even allowed tell humans I'm an angel –" He cut himself off as a thought came to him. "Not that I really follow the rules anymore," he shrugged. "But still! Have a sense of honor that I'm confiding in you!"

Buffy did _not_ ike this little chastisement. "Sorry," she replied sweetly with a hint of malice. "Typically when people confide in me we're wearing pajamas and eating junk food."

A sly look came into Balthazar's eyes. "Okay," he murmured with a clap of his hands.

All of a sudden they were in Buffy's bedroom, with only a lava lamp lighting up the room with a reddish hue. They were both on her bed and she saw a can of whipped cream on her nightstand. When she noticed he was just wearing black silk boxers, she scrambled backwards against the headboard. Looking down she also saw that he had thrown her into a black lacy teddy that was _far_ too revealing.

Several things ran through Buffy's mind all at once.

On one hand, she couldn't help but admire Balthazar's body. He may be almost Giles-aged, but he had a hell of a nice six pack that sought out a Faith-style reaction in her.

On the other, his wink and seductive, yet amused, smile – and the fact that he had just zapped her home (clearly he was powerful and not necessarily good) – brought out an angry Troll God-style reaction in her, making her wish she had Olaf's Hammer ready.

The latter reaction won.

Buffy struck like a viper, jumping the short distance across the bed (which she now realized were covered with black silk sheets and not her standard feel-good cotton), and delivering a swift right-hook. Balthazar fell back onto the bed and she climbed on top of him to hit him twice more before bending down to press her forearm against his neck.

"Darling," he purred with a raised eyebrow and a smirk of delight. "If you had wanted to be on top, you only needed to ask."

Buffy let out a grunt of frustration and pressed harder, causing Balthazar's eyes to open in surprise. "I don't know what the hell you are but clearly you're powerful enough to pull a Kazaam all Shaq-style on me. So I won't ask again. What are you and why are you here?" she questioned between gritted teeth.

"I told you!" he gasped. "I'm an angel."

"Angels don't exist," she snapped back.

Balthazar had the gall to laugh. "Oh right, you fight demons every day but you can't believe in angels?"

"I've never seen one!" But her voice wavered because there was a small part of her agreeing with Balthazar, somehow understanding something that her conscious mind had yet to comprehend.

He smiled and kicked his leg up, effectively throwing her back onto the bed and then he slid over her, his body not quite touching hers but close enough to feel his heat. "Well now you have," he informed her smugly.

"Where's your halo? And your wings?" Buffy retorted, angry that he had managed to reverse their positions.

Balthazar let out a sufferable sigh. "Yes, well. 'Fraid those halos are just in picture books. The wings though…Well, they're essentially pure energy and usually aren't visible to the human eye."

Buffy stilled. "You're serious," she realized.

He rolled his eyes. "As you would say it, well, _duh_."

Buffy pulled up her legs until her knees touched her torso, and then she kicked out, sending the angel flying against the headboard.

She realized that if she had been in Heaven then this guy was probably right – that angels existed. But that meant that there really was a god.

…And if they were all willing to just let her friends yank her out of Heaven back here to Hell on earth, then they were no friends of hers.

"Get out of here," she hissed, body coiled to deliver another blow.

Balthazar's mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water. "Listen, Buffy," he began in a sincere voice. "I'm sorry about this whole 'zapping you into lingerie' thing. It just seemed rather humorous – and enticing – at the moment and maybe, perhaps, I got a wee bit carried away." He smiled and both of them were suddenly back in their regular clothes and standing near her bed.

"That isn't why I'm angry." She tilted her head to the side and scowled. "Not that that won you any points. But that's not the point," she said hastily when Balthazar opened his mouth. "I just want nothing to do with your kind, _ever_." Pure vitriol dripped from her tongue like acid and Balthazar recoiled as if he had been burnt.

"Buffy, I swear—"

"Get. Out," she growled.

His entire expression fell at the vehemence of her words. Without a word he disappeared – although Buffy could have sworn she heard the rustle of feathery wings at his departure.

* * *

**A/N:**

Thanks to everyone who's been reading!

Still coming up…Balthazar interacts with the Scoobies - _and_ Spike ;)


	6. Barkeep Willy, Love Guru

**Barkeep Willy, Love Guru**

* * *

Balthazar grimaced in distaste as he took another sip of his whiskey on the rocks. His surroundings were positively dreadful, which completely matched his mood at the moment. This seedy underground bar played host to the demonic denizens of Sunnydale, and it certainly smelled like it. Finishing off his drink he motioned towards the human barkeeper, Willy, for another.

"Here ya go, pal," Willy said with a nervous smile as he carefully placed the drink in front of Balthazar. The man appeared slick – and that did not mean he acted smooth. No, his hair was greasy and his perspiration dripped from his forehead; he would wipe it off with his once-white-now-yellow towel before drying out a beer mug.

Of course, the man's nervousness and perspiration was possibly due to the fact that Balthazar just smote the hell out of his bar – literally. He killed at least six vampires and seven demons in a fit of rage after leaving the slayer's home.

"Stupid sodding _idiot_," Balthazar groaned under his breath. He tipped back the rest of his glass.

"Y-ya need something?" Willy stammered.

Frowning, Balthazar examined the bar's top shelf. He had known that humans drank alcohol to relieve stress and engage in licentious actions, but he had yet to try it until tonight. Unfortunately, he was an angel and apparently it took more than six glasses of straight whiskey to get him drunk. "Just give me two bottles of your strongest liquor," he commanded airily.

Willy obliged and Balthazar began pouring some scotch into his glass. He gazed at the human with disinterest, like one might glance at a bug.

Hmm. Perhaps that was his problem. He knew absolutely _nothing_ about humans. He had thought that the slayer would appreciate his humor…well, alright – he could admit to himself that his 'sleepover' trick was more for him than for her (and it didn't help that _he_ was influencing Balthazar's persona with his twisted humor more than he would have thought). But it had been _funny_! Plus, couldn't she feel that they were meant to be? Balthazar could feel this in his Grace. Wasn't that what humans did? Fall in love, make grand gestures, and be together?

It had worked for that wanker Angel when he gave Buffy that claddagh ring.

_Not _that he had been thinking about sex (well, alright, he had thought of it a little, but he was curious, sue him!), but he had somehow thought their first meeting would have gone a bit better than that. A lot better, actually.

Hmm, he had probably mistepped when he mocked her name. '_But she started it!_', a part of him defended.

"Oh right. Bloody mature you are, at the age of eternity," Balthazar grumbled to himself as he finished the first bottle.

Willy jerked slightly at the sound of him speaking and Balthazar decided it would be slightly more sane if he just spoke to the human rather than continue on with himself.

"Barkeep, come here for a moment."

Willy reluctantly walked over towards the angel. "Y-yeah?"

"Tell me, how on _earth_do you date women?"

Eyes widened in surprise in surprise before narrowing. "Hey, I do alright," he stated defensively.

Balthazar rolled his eyes. "That wasn't a cutting remark on _you_, lad, but an honest question. Just how do human women want to be courted?" he asked in exasperation.

"Uh…" Willy seemed at a loss. "Ya know, flowers and chocolate and shit like that."

The angel crinkled his nose in distaste. "Really? Women enjoy 'shit'?" Balthazar's tone dripped with sarcasm.

"You know what I mean!" Willy huffed.

Balthazar chuckled into his drink. At least this human was amusing. "Yes, well I'm interested in a _classy _woman. Flowers and chocolate won't work with her." He sighed. The slayer was indeed one of a kind.

"Well, I dunno. Women like jewelry, if you can afford it. Oh, and, uh, tear jerker movies – like The Notebook!" Willy suggested eagerly.

"Hmm." Balthazar presumed that the slayer called for something much more individualistic. But what? How could he prove himself (and apologize)?

Then he smiled. She was _the slayer_. He had 'known' her, in a sense, since she was fifteen. He knew what she liked.

* * *

Buffy let out a huff of irritation when she saw that her favorite fall sweater was missing from her closet. Flinging the closet door shut, she stalked over to her sister's room and began banging on the door. "Dawn! Where is my brown sweater?"

Dawn opened the door with a surprised – and slightly timid – expression on her face. "Uh…hi?" she greeted warily.

"My sweater, Dawn. I want my sweater," Buffy told her firmly, high-heeled boot tapping in irritation on the carpeted floor.

"Uh…sure." Dawn went through her closet and offered it to Buffy with a weak smile. "See? It's even clean."

"Well it better be! Honestly Dawn, next thing on my to-do list is to padlock my closet," Buffy sniped in a sisterly fashion. She held the sweater up against her jeans and nodded, pleased that her outfit worked. "Thanks." Buffy went back to her room to change, completely missing the curious look that Dawn was sending her way.

Dawn continued staring, even after Buffy disappeared into her room. "Weird," she murmured. "That was almost like old-Buffy." After last night's revelation that Buffy had been in Heaven all along…well, Dawn had expected something different from her sister. More depressed, quiet, lethargic…which was definitely not her right now.

As a smidgen of hope began to emerge in her heart, Dawn smiled at the thought that maybe Buffy would get better soon.

* * *

Buffy ambled down one of the main roads in Sunnydale, her steps feeling a bit lighter than yesterday's. There was something…different…about her today; she could feel it. For months she had felt nothing and then last night – for better or for worse – she had felt that _spark _of life again. Lust, pleasure, anger, betrayal – these were emotions she had not really felt since being ripped out of Heaven.

Of course, she really could have done without the anger and betrayal part.

An agitated noise escaped her lips as she reflected on last night. First she confesses to everyone that she was ripped out of Heaven and then a freaking guy shows up and says _he's _an angel, before promptly stripping them down and trying to get all horny Austin Powers-like on her.

Ugh!

She kicked a rock on the sidewalk out of frustration, watching it shoot across the street in satisfaction.

This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be her life. Because this, right here? This was Hell. The cold of the autumn wind, the crushing weight of life and death responsibilities, and then – to top it all off – her friends and family watching her constantly with painful expressions like she had thrown a 'puppy-kicking' party.

Honestly, who did they think they were? _They _weren't the one in pain. They didn't know.

Buffy was surprised by the sudden sob catching in her throat. '_They didn't know,_' she thought in a mentally softer tone. No one understood what it was like to leave Heaven.

Except perhaps this Balthazar guy.

She sighed. Last night she dreamt about their meeting and how they sang together. His song had been…well, the lyrics were kind of weird, if she was to be honest.  
_  
"They called me the Guardian of the Slayer  
For millennia I've watched over each girl  
Observing the life and death of every player  
Then you arrived, glistening like a freshwater pearl._

_Slayer, up in Heaven we couldn't get much higher_  
_You know that would be untrue_  
_You know that I would be a liar_  
_But we'll be fine down here; I'll light your fire._

_I thought I had experienced the utter bliss of Heaven_  
_Then I fell down to you, finally able to touch you_  
_Your touch is worth more than Heaven times seven_  
_The way you look at me threatens to undo"_

Guardian of the Slayer…watching over all of them…Did this mean that he watched her? And why did his words sound so loving?

She paused then, basking in the memory of how that song had made her feel – loved, warm. Happy.

Buffy clenched her eyes in an effort to dam the tears that threatened to fall. After clawing herself out of her own grave she had never thought she would feel happy again.

For about twenty minutes she walked in reflective silence around Sunnydale, enjoying the fresh autumn air. Her mind felt like a blended smoothie – with so many different thoughts swirling around that she couldn't quite figure out what was what. Yes, this Balthazar guy had made her feel momentarily happy and even might not be a bad guy, based on what he sang to her (although the card was still out on his creepy lingerie-time factor). But on the other hand, if he was telling the truth, he _was _an angel.

…which meant there was a god and other angels, all of whom had no problem with her getting yanked out of Heaven and placed into the Hellmouth.

And that pissed Buffy off.

* * *

A/N: Short, but I know it's been forever since the last update and I wanted lessen the wait.

Thanks for reading!

PS: You may have missed it, but there is a suspicious clue in this chapter about something our dear Balthazar did, that will have repercussions in the future... ;)


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